Harry Potter and the Return of the Dark Side
by MLynnBloom
Summary: Harry's 6th Year. The Second War has begun and history is about to repeat itself... Chapter 3: Black House Bequeathed (story temporarily on hold)
1. Owls and OWL's

Title: Harry Potter and the Return of the Dark Side

Rating: PG-13

Genre: General/Action/Adventure

Summary: Harry Potter faces his 6th Year at Hogwarts with much more to tackle. He's faced with bigger responsibilities, spells to defend himself against the rise of the Death Eaters (and their increasing attacks that affect many around him), and the lingering pain of Sirius's absence. Besides continuing the dreaded Occlumency lessons and discovering much more about his parents past, Luna's theory of the veil at the Ministry has bore deep in his thoughts… The Second War is beginning and history is about to repeat itself.

A/N: Here is my amateurish attempt (up to Rowling of course!) to writing Harry's 6th year. I know the 6th book is going to be titled 'HP and the Half Blood Prince' (WOOT!), but I don't want to base my story on who's the HBP. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my rendition of Harry's 6th year and there will be a 7th year story coming from me too…

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Chapter One: Owls and O.W.L.S.

On Privet Drive in Little Whinging, nothing was out of place from where it should be, and if anything that matched the neighbors' definition of 'unusual' definitely _did not_ belong there. Unfortunately for them, there were many odd things around them everyday.

Of course, the people that lived there were too busy to notice these things most of the time. They did not stop to watch Mrs. Figg's cat pacing over the Dursley's lawn twice a day. They did not stop to think that the blur of a bird going by overhead might just be an owl. And most of all, they never looked twice at the tiny articles in the newspaper headlined with titles such as: 'House Break-in; Two Dead'. Never in their lives would they had thought it was more than just an attempted burglary and the residents met an ill fate with the escaped criminal. They would have never of dreamed that it had been a murder planned by the darkest wizard of all time.

So, according to them, the neighbors lived a perfectly normal life. The only thing that had been slightly unusual for that time of summer was the downpour of rain. It was somewhat welcoming since the previous drought last summer. The rainstorms left the air thick and muggy when they stopped, but just as they had, the clouds would get dark once again and the rain would come down harder. Everyone kept themselves and their nice cars from going outside, but even if it was the clearest summer day Privet Drive had ever seen, a black-haired boy living in number four would have skipped the opportunity of enjoying it.

Harry Potter watched the rain come down against his small window as the lighting flashed dangerously. He had stubbornly untidy hair and glasses that sat on his nose just in front of his bright green eyes. He sat in bed on his side, staring blankly at the raindrops rolling down the dark window with the stars twinkling outside.

It was nearly midnight but Harry was not going to bed; in fact, he was wide-awake, still in his day clothes. He had been there in bed nearly all day. He didn't know if the Dursleys noticed, or even cared, but Harry kept himself inside unless it was necessary to come out.

This was his usual summer schedule. He would stay up until the early hours, wake up past noon, stagger downstairs to get a bite to eat, and repeat the whole process. He had let Hedwig's cage open all day, along with the window when it wasn't raining, so she could come and go when she pleased. Today, she was cooped up in the room with Harry perched on top of his dresser preening her feathers, and occasionally she would swoop down and nibble his ear to make sure he was still breathing.

The pelting rain droned on against the roof into the dark night and finally Harry managed to get himself out of bed. He sat until his eyes started to focus and his mind came back to reality. The reality was that Harry had no idea what day it was. He hadn't glanced at a calendar for days and he looked over at Hedwig. I might as well send a message out now, he thought wearily. He mustered all his strength to stretch under his bed for a scrap piece of parchment and his quill and inkbottle and wrote carelessly: _Doing fine, I'll write again. Harry._

He called Hedwig over to him and started to tie the piece of parchment to her leg when he looked outside. He didn't see the use now with all the rain; it would make his message unreadable. But none the less, they would see Hedwig with a soggy piece of message clamped in her talon and get the picture. He opened the window and rain blew in his face.

"You know where to send it," Harry said dully as he stroked her. Usually, she would have nipped him hard for making her fly out in the pouring rain, but she gave a disgruntled hoot and flew off.

Harry hated to see her fly away in these weather conditions but he had to. He still hadn't forgotten what Mad-Eye Moody and the rest of them told him off the train. They expected a message at least every other day from him just to make sure he was treated right. Harry had cut it close this time. The last thing he wanted was for the entire Order bursting into the Dursley's home thinking he had been missing or killed.

Harry kept the window open for a little while longer until he realized he was soaking the floor and snapped it shut quietly. The clock in his room glowed 2:18 AM and he lay back down. Earlier that summer he had welcomed sleep. He hoped he'd just sleep the summer days away until Hogwarts… and to sleep away the pain of the previous year. He bit his tongue down hard just thinking about it. The constant silence made everything worse.

Harry had thought that if more time had gone by, the suffering of Sirius's death would lessen, perhaps the same way it had with Cedric. But on the contrary, it seemed to grow. Subconsciously, he learned to except it, although he would never admit it for now. He realized the real weight of it when an enormous emotional blow hit him right around mid-July and since then he spent the rest of his summer days in his room. He didn't know why it had suddenly hit him so hard. He felt extreme guilt, then anger, and then complete sadness. Now he felt almost nothing: a jumble of feelings all together where it didn't feel like anything. He had tried not to think about it, tried not to raise his temper… Sirius was the first thing he thought of, and the last thing before he slept.

However, the buildup of holding back his pain burst and one morning he woke up to the worst dream he had in months and his pillow being completely soaked. He now forced himself to staying up late every night until he fell asleep from being too exhausted to think about anything. He would not have himself cry in his sleep again.

That was the last time it happened, but the dreams never went away. It was almost the same every night: a replay of Sirius's death, along with past memories. He would keep falling and falling as everything stood still as he vanished behind the veil. Even lately, dreams of his parents' murder had come back, but louder and clearer…

He sat a few moments longer, wondering what Ron and Hermione were up to. Probably down at the headquarters with the Order, he thought, finding out more about what Voldemort was up to…

He gave a short laugh. Last year, it meant everything to him that they were off having fun without him.

The room was dark and Harry staggered over to the door. His foot hit something as he reached the doorknob and he bent down. It was the dinner Aunt Petunia had slipped through hours ago, now stone cold. Harry pushed it aside with his foot and opened the door quietly. Dudley's snores was a usual sound at night and Harry made his way down the hall. He groped for the bathroom door handle and locked himself inside.

The brightness of the lights as he turned them on made him blind for a moment but his eyes adjusted to what was around him: one of the Dursleys spot-free, porcelain bathrooms. A mirror was hung exactly in front of him and Harry stood in front of it.

He watched as he ran his hand through his hair, which was difficult after never caring to comb it lately. His scar glowed between his black fringe. His scar always burned dully now, but he had learned to ignore it most of the time. It was enflamed from the constant throbbing and Harry took off his glasses. He wet a washcloth under the faucet and pressed it against his face. His forehead felt much better.

After some time, Harry went to leave the washroom, but he stopped in front of the mirror one last time. How was it that nearly five years had gone by? He remembered his eleven-year-old self well, but felt as if he had forgotten a major part of himself at the same time. He felt too big for his body now, and his green eyes stared back. His mother's eyes…

__

THUD.

Harry jumped and hastily turned the light off and felt his way back to his room. He didn't have his wand with him… and then Harry thought of Hedwig.

I'm beginning to get as jumpy as Moody, he thought aggravated as his head throbbed from his growing headache. But then, Hedwig couldn't have delivered the message that fast, could she? Was she expecting his window to be open? Never before had she collided with his window--- and then a light went on inside him. He turned on the lamp in his room that shined faintly, opened his window, and stuck his head out the subsiding storm.

A large, clumsy owl flapped its way into Harry's room and collapsed on Harry's bed with two parcels and a card. Harry shut his window and the owl flapped its wings dry. It was Errol, the Weasley's owl.

Harry untied the parcels from Errol's feet and took the card from his beak. He hopped into Hedwig's cage and drank hungrily. Harry started to unwrap the boxes instinctively when it hit him. It must be my birthday, he thought. He was sixteen years old.

He grabbed a large, lumpy package first and found a large piece of parchment inside written by none other than his best friend, Ron.

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Harry,

Hope things are going well for you with the Muggles. I hope I'll be seeing you soon and from what I've been hearing from Dad and the Order, it shouldn't be too long. There's a situation they need to get sorted out and I'm not sure if it has to do with you coming over or not.

Fred and George's place has made LOADS of money. I heard Mum was upset with them leaving school before their N.E.W.T.'s and opening a place in Diagon Alley for their inventions (and by upset I mean a good bit of yelling and pulling at their ears… bit of a show for us after he got home from the Express). But the Fred and George made it up with her by giving the whole family half their earnings so far and splurging on Mum by buying her a whole new kitchen set. She seems quite content with their career now, although she mumbles here and there about "respectable" careers.

Hermione's over and Dad offered to send her gift with Errol as well. He put a Water-Repellent charm on it just in case it was raining over there too. He also might have put a Locking charm on it too so only you could read what's inside or something of that sort. Everyone keeps reminding us that the owl post is being watched more than ever and who knows who might read it. Well, if you're not Harry, enjoy the treats.

It might take Errol a while to get there with the weather and his state. I think Dad also sent a card of Hagrid's with him too. His owl had a message for Dad and he had a card for you just in case you were over here with us at the Burrow. Mum's going mad with the Order here all the time.

Keep in touch and we'll see you real soon, mate.

Ron

P.S: Percy came back a while ago and apologized… somewhat. Oh yeah, best not to try some of the peanut brittle I sent over at the Muggles place.

It had been a while since Harry smiled, even if it was just slightly. He could just imagine Fred and George with their new shop. He also couldn't help wondering what Percy had said to apologize to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Errol hooted sleepily in Hedwig's cage. He wasn't surprised it took Errol well into the early hours of the morning to get his presents to him. But what had Ron meant by the Order being at the Burrow all the time when they had Number 12, Grimmauld's Place? Was Ron right about something there was dealing with him?

Harry shook it off. There was always something that invovled him. He pulled the half-ripped paper aside and found a heap of Ron's usual sweets he sent. There was Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's, and Honeydukes's Best Chocolate… a lot more than previous years and Harry could give one guess why he was being so generous. Also in the pile, he found some sort of kit containing what looked like Extendible Ears, a large colorful box, and an odd bar of peanut brittle Ron had mentioned. The box read:

**__**

Fred and George Weasley Presents: Whimsical Wizardry Whatnots

Extendible Ears, Skiving Snackboxes, & Bellowing Brittle

(For All Your Mischievous Needs!)

A quick note was stuck on top reading: _Just a bit of fun for you at school and around the Muggles. Thanks for getting us where we are-- it's free for you anytime. Your unworthy admirers, - F&G_

Harry set the gift to the end of his bed and took the next parcel from Hermione, and from his judgement, it felt oddly familiar to a book. She too had a note.

__

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! I really can't wait to see you again. How many O.W.L.'s did you get? I got eight! I was a bit upset that I managed to receive just an A for Ancient Runes, but other than that, I'm very pleased with myself.

I suppose they'll be contacting you soon to come over. I hate to admit it, but Fred and George's Extendible Ears have been handy to have, but Ron, Ginny, and I have only caught parts of their conversation before someone opens the door suddenly. It has to do about the Order's headquarters I'm sure, but I'll keep you updated if you're not informed.

Have you been getting mine and Ron's letters? Anyway, I do hope you find some use from my presents. You can't have too many books!

The Order sends their love with mine,

Hermione

Harry knew he was right and he pulled the brown paper away to reveal not one large book, but two small books. One read _'Techniques, History, and Everything Else to Know about Quidditch' _and the other, _'Potions and Potions!' _with a written note inside: _Hope this helps! _But Harry doubted it, not with Snape as his teacher, and his blood boiled with anger for a second as he thought of him.

Harry dropped the books at the end with the treats from Ron. So they weren't at their usual headquarters but Harry couldn't think of a reason of why they were not. Perhaps Voldemort learned where it was hidden. No, he thought, the Black house had a secret keeper.

O.W.L.'s… he had forgotten about those. Hermione obviously hadn't and he suspected that schoolwork was the last thing Ron would mention in a letter. The thick envelope containing his scores was actually in a pile stashed in the loose floorboard with the rest of Ron and Hermione's letters he hadn't responded to. He hadn't been in the mood lately to learn what he had scored. He didn't need any more disappointments.

The last thing there was that Errol had brought was the card from Hagrid. He tore the envelope open to find a small card. It remained blank for a moment but when Harry touched it. a picture of Hagrid in the midst of the Forbidden Forest waving with Grawp beside him snapping logs in half happily. For the first time, Hagrid actually looked small. Harry now understood why a Locking charm was set on the parcels. It wouldn't be good if someone had stumbled across a card with a live giant on the front. Inside it read shortly:

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Dear Harry,

Olympe managed to take a picture of Grawp and me. Ain't he gettin' bigger? Hope you're holding up well and write whenever you feel like talking. You'll be getting a present from me later, don't you worry.

Hagrid

The stack at the end of his bed sunk into the mattress and Harry lay down wearily on his back. A calm silence filled the room. Errol was barely awake and Harry had noticed it had stopped raining.

"You can sleep here for the night if you want," said Harry to Errol and the owl took that as a cue to fall right asleep.

Their letters had cheered him up a bit, being as socially deprived as he was, but there was still a gaping hole in his stomach. There was no letter from Sirius and there never will be ever. None of them had mentioned him, even though he felt a twinge of sympathy in Hagrid's, but he was glad they didn't.

The clock read after 3 AM and the streetlights down the road glowed dimly. Now that Hermione mentioned it, Harry's dreading curiosity started to build on his scores. It had been a good two weeks since the Hogwarts owl came to his window and the envelope still stayed unopened. Harry preferred it to stay that way, but the curiosity was killing him…

Suddenly, Harry reached down to the floorboard and pulled out the thick letter on top of the stack. Might as well get this over with, he thought drearily and he tore the letter open. He swallowed hard.

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Dear Mr. Potter,

You have received the scores for your Ordinary Wizarding Levels (O.W.L.) exams. Remember, these scores will decide your future classes for N.E.W.T.s and will remain with you after you leave Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for better and brighter things. Your following scores are as follows:

(O: Outstanding; E: Exceeds Expectations; A: Acceptable; P: Poor; D: Dreadful)

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Transfiguration - E

Charms - E

Herbology - A

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Potions - E

Care of Magical Creatures - O

Divination - P

Astronomy - A

(Due to distractions during the Astronomy exam, which resulted in a shorten time period to complete exams, all students passed with what work they had completed.)

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History of Magic - P

Total O.W.L.S Passed (above an Exceeds Expectations):

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5

We hope your scores advance you to the needed classes of your choice for a bright future and career. You will be receiving your list of classes before the start of term.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts,

Head of Gryffindor House

Harry read the scores over several times. He understood his average scores for Herbology, Astronomy, but two O's and an actual E for Potions?! Oh well, he thought, so much for learning Potions for training to be an Auror. He knew Snape didn't accept anyone in his classes with below an O. He was pleased slightly that he also got an E for Transfiguration and Charms. At least he didn't have to take Divination and History of Magic anymore---

His stomach lurched horribly. He would have done badly otherwise for never taking notes like Hermione had for History of Magic, but he remembered what had happened during that last exam. He fell into a vision, he saw Voldemort torturing Sirius, and he believed it…

He reached over for a Chocolate Frog after leaving his scores on the floor and ate half of it to satisfy his empty stomach, although he tasted nothing with the thought of Sirius on his mind, as always. He flung the container across the room and Errol fluttered abruptly.

Dudley snorted nearby. He pressed his hands hard against his face as his headache pulsed in his temple. He was angry all the time, angry with himself and he hated it. He was trapped inside… inside famous Harry Potter, the boy with the scar. The boy that no one believed for a year. The boy who caused his own godfather's death…

The Famous Witches and Wizard Card tumbled out of the Chocolate Frog box face up with Albus Dumbledore was smiling up at him and his brain went numb with anger again and mixed emptiness.

Deep within the grief for Sirius and the worrying over O.W.L's and what else he had thought over the summer, the prophecy never left his mind for a day. Parts of it still rang in his head and haunted him whenever his mind was vulnerable for open thought… _born as the seventh month dies… neither can live while the other survives…_

He didn't want to think about what would happen or what might happen to him at the moment. He felt angry still; he had a terrible urge to throw something else or scream out its unfairness of why it had to be happening to him like so many times he wanted to do the past few months. However, suddenly he was too exhausted to want to do anything else…

It was his birthday but it didn't matter much. It had ended as miserably as any other day with those thoughts pounding on him. He flipped over on his stomach and without pulling any covers over him, he slept dreamlessly for the first time in weeks with his presents at his feet.

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TBC with Chapter Two: The Unexpected Auror

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	2. The Unexpected Auror

It's July 31… Happy Birthday Rowling! And of course, Harry Potter! Thanks for your reviews!

If Harry Potter belonged to me, I'd be J.K. Rowling, and I'm MLynnBloom. Simple.

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Chapter Two: The Unexpected Auror

The birthday presents sent by Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid remained at the end of his bed for nearly a week. Hedwig was perched in her cage, her head buried in her feathers as she slept after hunting all night. It was mid morning and Harry rubbed his eyes groggily as he fumbled for his glasses. He unlocked Hedwig's cage incase she wanted to stretch her wings; she nipped his finger softly as in saying hello.

He took a good look around as he scratched his head yawning. School books and homework was scattered all over the floor along with his dirty clothes. He looked towards the blank walls and never realized how sickly the yellowing paint made the room look. His room was a complete mess and after staying in his room for nearly a month, Harry was suddenly sick of it and left, closing the door behind him as Hedwig squawked loudly for being abandoned.

Aunt Petunia was preparing breakfast over the stove but Harry didn't feel like waiting to eat. He poured himself cereal and looked in the refrigerator for the milk, but found a nearly empty carton of soymilk instead. A new carton of whole milk was peering through the back but Harry sighed and suddenly regretted not waiting for breakfast. He knew the Dursleys would have a fit if he opened an entire carton of milk when there was soymilk left. Harry shuddered. He didn't know how long the carton had been there; it was another one of Aunt Petunia's failing attempts to get her family on a diet although no one touched it.

He brought the carton to the table and Aunt Petunia eyed him cautiously as if he was going to spill it. He cringed at the first spoonful. It was definitely worse than Aunt Petunia's leftover casseroles, and that was saying something.

"You better put that milk away before it curdles," Aunt Petunia snapped as if he would sit there until dinner.

__

Too late, Harry thought disgustedly as he stirred his cereal and clumps of milk around. Aunt Petunia left the kitchen briefly, eyeing Harry as if he was going to steal the sausage, and when she left upstairs, he skid across the kitchen and dumped it down the sink. Harry considered pouring the rest of the soymilk down the drain, but thought better of it and set it back in the fridge with the label turned incase Dudley decided to pour himself some nice clotted milk.

Aunt Petunia came down the stairs muttering threateningly with a plate of food in her hands that she dumped in the trash. She threw her angry eyes over to Harry.

"I won't be wasting anymore of our food on you if you won't eat it," she snarled. "If I find another uneaten dinner plate again, you can go off and find dinner elsewhere."

__

Gladly, Harry thought as he stared outside particularly at nothing and Aunt Petunia continued, "_And_ I hope you haven't forgotten how to do the laundry because I won't do it for you." She finished coldly and Harry knew she had seen his dirty clothing littered all over his floor.

"I'm not expecting you to," Harry said shortly and after a few silent moments, Dudley's unmistakable fat feet were thundering down the stairs. He came down to the kitchen where Aunt Petunia lovingly offered him sausage. Dudley sleepily opened the refrigerator door and poured himself a glass of milk and sat down without looking at him. Harry couldn't help but snort.

"What are you laughing about?" Dudley asked thickly scratching his massive, blonde head as he set the glass on the table.

"Nothing," Harry said hiding his smirk. Dudley grabbed for the funnies in the paper, his hand still on the glass.

"Finally learned how to read, Dudders?" Harry muttered in a mock tone of interest.

"Shut up, you," Dudley grumbled, "Aren't you supposed moping in your room? We were getting used to---" But Dudley didn't finish for he had just taken a big gulp of milk and sprayed it all over the dining table. Harry backed away just in time.

"MUM! What are you doing keeping milk like _this_?" Dudley shouted as he wiped his mouth over and over again on his sleeve as he noticed the clumps in the milk.

"Oh, sweetums, I'll dump this old milk and I'll pour you a new glass. Alright, dear?" Aunt Petunia asked as she squeezed his thick shoulders comfortingly as she grimaced at the sight of her clean tablecloth. She had obviously forgotten Harry had used the same milk just minutes ago. Dudley grunted. Tormenting Dudley was the only pleasure Harry got all summer ever at the Dursleys, but strangely it wasn't as funny as it usually was.

For the rest of the morning, Harry kept to himself alone. Nothing much had happened (save for Aunt Petunia chasing Mrs. Figg's cat off her lawn with a broom and Dudley retelling his boxing stories outloud for the hundredth time) until the door burst open just after six and in the doorway was Uncle Vernon beaming, thick neck and all.

"Vernon, what are you doing home so late?" Aunt Petunia asked as she scurried over to him from preparing dinner.

"Petunia! You'll never believe what I got at work!" He said loudly. He shot a nasty look at Harry on the couch and whispered to Petunia. Her eyes widened.

"It was an extra bonus on my paycheck for completing that large order of drills two weeks ago!" Uncle Vernon's voice boomed throughout the house. Dudley came downstairs looking confused.

"Dudley, my boy! Have I got something for you! Something your Dad bought with his bonus!" Dudley stopped in his tracks and his face lit up. Uncle Vernon's voice was gradually getting louder.

"Dudley, you did so well last school year--"(in fact, Dudley had managed to fail some of his classes, not _all_, which to the Dursleys was an achievement)"--and winning the local boxing tournament, that I couldn't help myself. I'm proud of you, son!"

It all sounded like an inspirational speech echoing on speakers. Uncle Vernon looked over to Harry as if he was going to ask if he had gotten anything for him, but Dudley hadn't taken in a word. He bounced on his heels chanting, "What is it? What is it?"

"Now wait just a minute, I think you should call up some of your friends. I think they'd like to see what your ol' Dad got you, don't you think?" Uncle Vernon grinned and Dudley hurried to the telephone so he could show off whatever he had waiting for him to his gang.

Finally after half an hour, the last of Dudley's friends came and Harry was glad of it. Dudley's endless questions were almost unbearable.

Uncle Vernon had taken them outside, ignoring the fact that Harry was even with them. Dudley's friends, Piers and Malcolm, had a good bit of shoving and bumping into him hard whenever they got the chance and if the Dursleys saw this or not, they hadn't done anything to stop it.

"What's it your Dad got you, Dud?" asked Gordon.

"How much did it cost?" Piers said.

"Dunno," Dudley said stupidly, "But it's something real big I bet."

Uncle Vernon rubbed his hands excitedly and announced as loudly as he could so the neighbors could hear. "Here it is, Dudley! Just a little something I thought you're ready for!"

He walked over across the parking space, lifted the garage door and Dudley and Petunia gasped as Dudley's friends gawked. The "little something" turned out to be a brand new car. Harry couldn't believe Uncle Vernon would spend his paycheck on a car for Dudley when they had been discussing a nice vacation just last month. Dudley's mouth just kept opening and closing.

"But it's not even your birthday," Harry stated and the gang glared at him.

"Shut up," Dudley muttered.

"You can't even drive yet!" Harry realized out loud and Piers gave him a hard punch on the arm.

Dudley stroked the leather interior and hopped in. It looked out of proportion with Dudley's large self in a tiny sports car. "Can I take it for a ride, Dad?" He asked, his eyes shining.

"Well, Dud---" Aunt Petunia began cautiously.

"Dad!" Dudley persisted. Harry knew he wouldn't dare throw a fit in front of his gang.

"Er… what the hell, right?" Uncle Vernon said and he got into the passenger side. Petunia tried to intercept but Uncle Vernon said, "Don't fret, Petunia. I'll be instructing him the whole time. Climb in, boys!"

Piers, Malcolm, and Gordon excitedly got in the back as Dudley was handed the keys, roaring the engine a few times. "Bet _you_ wish you had one of these, eh?" Gordon had sneered haughtily at Harry.

"Not really," Harry said casually, "I have other ways of getting around."

The Dursleys went red. Harry knew their minds had flashed to his broomstick and the fireplace, and maybe even the Weasley's flying Ford Anglia.

"Let's get going," Uncle Vernon grumbled, "And keep that stereo down until we get out of the neighborhood." He said, turning down Dudley's vulgar music.

Finally after five minutes, Uncle Vernon directed him out of the garage after Dudley forgot to put it in reverse and they backed out onto the street. Aunt Petunia watched them leave anxiously and Harry went back in the house. The neighbors had indeed started to come out and see what was peeling down the road.

Dinner was set on the table and Harry helped himself. He was nearly finished when she came back inside. She glared at him as if he should wait for them to get back, but that could take hours. She served herself quickly anyway and ate just as fast so she wouldn't have to bear the long silence with Harry at the table. After an hour, they still hadn't returned and Aunt Petunia fussed silently by the window.

The streetlamps flickered on as night came and Harry went up to his room. Hedwig was gone and he sat on the bed with nothing to do. A cold draft came through his window and made him shiver oddly. Harry whipped around looking outside, almost expecting to see a dementor.

__

Stop being stupid, Harry thought. For all he knew, wizards from the Order were probably stationed outside right this instant patrolling number four as if he was a reckless little boy who went looking for trouble. With that thought, he let his mind wander off aimlessly to last summer when something clicked.

He hurried downstairs to ask her before Dudley and Uncle Vernon came back. Aunt Petunia had moved to the couch with a good view of the window outside and gave Harry a dirty look as she stood in front of her.

"Yes?" Aunt Petunia said finally.

"Last year," Harry started slowly, "You never explained to me about the Howler."

Aunt Petunia snorted, "I don't need to explain any---"

"My headmaster told me of a pact you sealed with him. About this house and why I come back. But there's more to it, isn't there?" Harry continued as Aunt Petunia went pale.

"So he tells you everything, does he?" She hissed.

Harry would have taken this threateningly if Harry didn't notice a flicker of sadness and shock in her eyes. She continued sharply, but her voice trembled, "Well… if you must know, the Howler-thingy _was_ referring to the letter he sent me… when you were dropped off on our door. That letter reminded me of a time when it had been agreed before, incase I was to refuse or send you off someplace elsewhere," She said slowly as if she was struggling with every word, but didn't raiser her voice above a whisper. Harry opened his mouth to interrupt but she continued stiffly.

"The matter of it all came up before you were… born, and let's say I wasn't too keen at first on the matter of taking you if anything was to happen to Lily. Now look what happened to h--- why am I explaining this to you? Why do you want to know?" She snapped loudly as if she just realized she was talking to him.

Harry's mind was racing as she said this, searching for something to say or answer to. The matter of his housing was brought up before his parents died? But why---then his thoughts stopped and he stared at Petunia. She had said his mother's name for the first time in a long while. He wanted to ask why more, but before anything else a car horn blared in the silence and Aunt Petunia jumped up and ran outside in an instant. Harry stood planted on the spot for a minute before returning upstairs and falling on his bed thinking over what she had told him many times.

__

My parents must of known that Voldemort was after them before I was born, or at least were ready for it. Dumbledore told them before… about Voldemort…the prophecy… Harry concluded sleepily and before he could pull his covers up, he fell asleep. But it became another night of uneasy sleep, only to be awoken every few hours to dreams of Sirius's falling and his mother screaming.

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Dudley's joyride with the gang earned him a nice dent in the fender of the car. Uncle Vernon assured Aunt Petunia that it was just a "first time scratch" and that everyone hits a mailbox on their first ride. She, on the other hand, hadn't looked or spoke to Harry since yesterday.

Harry sat on his bed lazily, trying to read up on all the fire plants there were in Herbologic History for homework when Hedwig flew in. She came back with nothing but a few dead crickets in her mouth. No letter, nothing. Harry thought this strange for a moment. He had been sending messages to the Order so they knew he was doing fine for his part, but for about a week they hadn't sent anything back like they had been doing.

The television downstairs blared commercials when the doorbell rang. The jumbled conversation he heard coming from below stopped and the television was turned down. Harry listened subconsciously as he flipped through his book.

Uncle Vernon's voice echoed bluntly, "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in buying anything you want to sell."

"Oh no, I'm not selling anything," a woman's voice responded and Harry got up to look outside his door. The woman was short with long, curly red hair and almost looked like she could be a long lost sister of the Weasleys until Harry looked a bit closer. _Tonks?_ He asked himself but stayed still just in case he was desperately imagining it.

"What do you want?" Uncle Vernon asked rudely. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were watching close behind.

"I'm looking for Harry Potter. I have orders to take him away," she said frankly as she smiled.

"I don't think we kn--- who are you exactly?" Uncle Vernon asked sharply and she cocked an eyebrow.

"I believe we met just a few months ago at the station… Oh wait!" she said suddenly, screwed up her face, and where her red hair was, there was suddenly spiky, pink hair. It was definitely Tonks. "That's better, isn't it? I think this was the color… no?" Tonks asked as she saw the look of utter shock on Dudley's face. Tonks then again changed her hair to a shade of purple and right before Uncle Vernon was about to slam the door in her face, Harry stepped down the stairs.

"Harry!" She squealed and she walked in past Uncle Vernon. He looked as if he was going to shout but his eyes laid on the wand sticking out of her pocket and shut his mouth. Tonks grabbed Harry in a rib-cracking hug that could have given Hagrid a run for his money.

"How have you been, Harry? Sorry this is a bit late notice, but we suspect our last owl was intercepted and we've found the post dodgy now. Well, come on! Get your trunk and whatnot!" She gave Uncle Vernon a toothy grin before heading up after Harry. "We'll be just a minute."

Tonks entered his room and laughed loudly, "Looks as if you haven't cleaned it since last time I've seen it. No matter," she said and flicked her wand, which immediately packed his belongings. Harry gathered Hedwig in her cage as Tonks sat on his bed.

"Doing good?" Tonks asked and Harry gave her a blank look. _Oh yeah, just splendid_, Harry thought.

"Sure," Harry mumbled and Tonks sighed.

"Yes, well, living with these Muggles can't be too great, can it?" Tonks shrugged. Harry crouched down beside his bed awkwardly and Tonks came down as well.

"Looking for something?" She asked. Harry reached under and wrenched the floorboard up for his O.W.L. scores and letters. A horrible smell of decay filled the air and they both backed out with their hands to their noses.

"What are you keeping under there?" Tonks gasped and Harry shook his head annoyed. "I'm not keeping anything!" He shot. Tonks bent back down under the bed.

"I'll take a look… ah ha!" Tonks said with her nose plugged, "Not to worry. Just bundimun."

"Bundi-what?" Harry asked and he crouched down to see. Inside the floor where his letters and O.W.L scores were was what looked a greenish mold growing on the side.

"Bundimun," Tonks repeated, "They eat through the floors. Glad we found it while it's still small. My mum had an encounter with this stuff… nasty little things. You call tell bundimun apart from regular mold I suppose, by the eyes obviously and," Tonks pointed her wand at the green fungi and it scuttled suddenly, "when they feel threatened with a wand, they usually move like that. You need to clean more than once every few years, Harry," Tonks laughed and said, "'_Scorify!_' Ah, well, there you go, Harry. A quick household cleaning lesson."

Harry grabbed his letters and scores and before long, they were downstairs with his belongings. The Dursleys had stayed in the same place speechless and Tonks ushered Harry out the door.

"Nice seeing you again!" Tonks smiled briskly, "Oh, and by the way, I couldn't help notice your car. Marvelous set of wheels you've got there!" Uncle Vernon looked furious as if he couldn't believe a person of magic was discussing his car, but Tonks had already shut the door before he could say anything.

It was an exceptionally sunny and Harry shielded his eyes. He thought it was about time for someone to come and take him away, but the awkward thing as much as he missed Ron and Hermione, he didn't want to see anybody just yet. Of course he wanted to get to Hogwarts more than anything, but he didn't want to bear the time in between. He knew how people would try to sympathize with him and tell him it wasn't his fault, but he didn't want to hear it now or ever. Tonks checked the streets for any Muggles before lifting her wand. Just as she did, the triple-decker Knight Bus came screeching around the corner and in front of number four.

Harry was surprised he had managed to get on the Knight Bus for a third time when really he wished he would never ride it again. Tonks muttered her destination in front to Ernie the driver and Harry moved up to the third level so he wouldn't have to run into Stan Shunpike. He didn't want to explain anything to anybody about Voldemort.

"So," Harry said awkwardly as Tonks sat across him, "Why didn't anybody get me earlier. It's been over a month."

"I was wondering when you were going to ask something!" Tonks said, scrunching up her face to make her hair red and curly again, "Yes, we know, Harry, and we're really sorry about it, too. The Order's in a real jam trying to sort out a complication that arose, but now I think we've got it under control--- almost," Tonks explained as the bus jumped.

"What kind of complication?" Harry asked. His mind immediately jumped to Voldemort.

"Well, difficulty with the headquarters of the Order," Tonks said slowly as Harry remembered how Ron had said the Order of the Phoenix was staying at the Burrow, "It, well, we can't _use_ it, actually, at the moment."

"Why not?" Harry said. Tonks looked around as if looking for what to say when her face fell.

"Harry," Tonks said softly, "I can't lie to you… we figured out long ago what the answer to our problem was, dealing with the headquarters I mean. That's not what kept us from getting you. You cannot get angry with us, but we figured you needed time to heal after Sirius's death before we took you and threw anything else your way." Tonks explained and Harry bit his lip hard.

"What do you mean? I don't need anymore 'time to heal', and if I did, does the Order think Privet Drive was the best choice?" Harry asked angrily.

"Yes, in fact. Dumbledore figured you needed time away from the wizarding world…"

"Well, tell Dumbledore it's been hell being alone, thanks---"

"Harry, _listen_. You'll find out what we mean soon, but we thought that you'd rather want to deal with Sirius's death alone for a time," Tonks said. Harry didn't look at her. He hated how she said his name. He hated how right she was.

His O.W.L. scores and letters were still clutched in his tight fist and Tonks noticed them. "O.W.L. scores, eh? How'd you do?" She asked trying to lighten the conversation.

"Good, I guess," He said and Tonks took his scores. He didn't object, everyone would probably know them sooner or later.

"Ah! 'Outstanding' on Defense Against the Dark Arts! I'm not surprised," Tonks winked, "Wow, 'E's' on Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration! I've got to say, I had a talent with Potions, except for knocking over my cauldrons…"

"Well, I don't. It's probably a mistake. I'm not even sure how I got that… and it's not like it matters. Snape doesn't accept anyone under an O." Harry said as he stuffed his scores in his trunk.

"Well, you never know," Tonks grinned and before Harry could say anything, she jumped up as the bus stopped abruptly and said, "The Burrow! This is our stop! Grab your owl, I'll take your trunk and broom, now go!"

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Chapter Three: Black House Bequeathed

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	3. Black House Bequeathed

Wow, I love reading your responses of my story, thanks so much! It means a lot.

If Harry Potter belonged to me, I'd be with Warner Brothers and own Bugs Bunny... sigh which I don't.

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**Chapter Three: Black House Bequeathed**

"Thank you for riding the Knight Bus. We're glad to be in your service and deliver you to your preferred destination," Stan Shunpike called out to Harry and Tonks as they exited the towering purple bus. As the doors swung shut, Harry heard Stan turn to Ernie, "Third time, that is! I would 'ave never dreamed of it... 'Arry Potter on our bus, three times nonetheless!"

The sight of the twisted stories that made the Burrow made Harry's downfallen spirits he felt all summer rise slightly. Being away from magic as long as he was almost made him appreciate everything in the wizarding world a little bit more. There was a group of people waiting outside for them and as he got closer Harry could make out Mad-Eye Moody, Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ron. Mrs. Weasley got to him first, gamboling her way over fast and smothering him with kisses on his cheeks when she reached him.

"Oh, Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley chirped as she grabbed Hedwig's cage.

"Give him some air, mum," Ron's voice came from behind her. Ron's flaming red hair hung just over his eyes looking as if it was due for a good haircut. His cheeks were tinted with a slight sunburned look and if it was even possible, he looked a bit taller than last year. He gave Harry an understanding smile and Harry gave a halfhearted grin back.

"We've missed you so much, Harry," Hermione said as she hugged him tightly. Her long brown hair was as bushy and fly-a-way as ever but she had seemed to grow into herself a little more than the previous years. She smiled comfortingly as she moved out of his way to the Burrow.

"It's good seeing you again," said Lupin as he clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder, as well as Moody who grumbled, "Glad to have you back with us."

They continued to greet him warmly as he slowly made his way to the Weasley's door. Mundungus tipped his head with a scruffy grin as he shook his hand, as so did Mr. Weasley.

Finally he found himself in the homey living room of the Burrow. Tonks set his belongings by the foot of the stairs. Ginny leapt down from them and smiled brightly at Harry. Soon, he was ushered to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley set a glass of lemonade in front of him as he sat at the table.

They all sat down, clustered around him as Mrs. Weasley set out sandwiches for lunch. Ron and Hermione sat in front of him grinning while Mr. Weasley amused everyone with what kind of charms wizards placed on Muggle artifacts he had to deal with at work.

"... and if you thought the uncontrollable clapping gloves was ridiculous, I received an owl to control a toaster that would pop out endless pieces of toast. It took a good quarter of an hour to finally work out the charm the family's sons set on it, but in the end there was toast for about a year's worth of breakfast. Fascinating how the toaster works, but Molly would have a fit if I brought one home..."

They continued speaking good-humoredly about nothing in particular. Harry sat and listened and was grateful no one asked him much or put him on the spot. Lunch passed in a blur. He hadn't had such a welcoming time in weeks, and as Mrs. Weasley was collecting empty plates, Mr. Weasley stood up.

"Ron, Hermione, Ginny... it'd be best if we left Harry with the Order for a few minutes," Mr. Weasley suggested, which was more like a subtle command, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left with the three. By their faces, he could tell that they were disappointed they couldn't stay and hear, and with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with them, it was near impossible they could use Extendible Ears.

The door closed and Lupin and Moody grabbed chairs closer to Harry. Mundungus sat at the far end of the table, twiddling with his pipe as if tempted to smoke it, and Tonks stood in the corner.

Harry knew earlier the friendly conversations wouldn't continue for long and he was right when he saw the look of business on each of their faces. Moody had drawn out a packet of papers from his trench coat but held them in his lap.

"Harry, I suppose Tonks told you about our situation with the Order's headquarters?" Moody said in his usual gruff voice.

Tonks stepped forward, "Just scratched the surface, Alastor. The Knight Bus got here faster than I thought." Lupin let out a sigh and ran his hand through his blonde-graying hair.

"Where's the rest of the Order," Harry asked as he scratched his neck nervously, "If you can't use the headquarters I mean."

"Out," Moody said simply and Harry left it at that. Lupin leaned a bit closer on the table across from Harry and gave him an impassive look as he sighed.

"There's no use waiting to tell you any later. Number 12, Grimmauld's Place," Lupin started, "has been unavailable to us since June. It has sealed itself up so no one can ever enter it again. At first, we were stumped and knew finding a new headquarters would be very difficult. We learned at last the house has an old generation charm set inside to where once the last true descendant of the Black ancestry has passed, the House of Black will seal itself up for eternity. Sirius," Lupin paused, "knew months before of this and rationally thought that if something was to happen to him... he would find a loophole in the spell so the Black House could still usable. He did, in fact, find a loophole by creating a will. Sirius found out a member of the Black family could in fact create a will passing the house to another, thus breaking the spell. "

"This is where you come in, Harry," Lupin said quietly, "Sirius designed a will which he gave to Dumbledore months ago bequeathing the entire house and its belongings to you. Everything Sirius had under his name now belongs to you."

Harry's mind froze. _No, he couldn't have. Sirius didn't owe me anything_, Harry thought immediately and he was surprised they were going to even try to get him to sign. This was why they waited so long to get him. To be sure he had recovered from Sirius's death, and then to suddenly bring him in with warm welcomes, making sure he was having a good time when he arrived so he would sign the will without argument.

"No." said Harry, finally getting his mouth to speak for him, "No, I don't want it."

"Harry," Moody said sternly, his magical eye on the paperwork, "Think reasonably."

"No," Harry said again bluntly, and he realized he was on his feet, "I don't need anything from Sirius! I don't want anything of his." Harry said loudly, surprised he even said his name.

"Think of the Order, Harry," Tonks spoke up, "We need the Black House for the Order. It's too dangerous to find someplace elsewhere."

"You can sign the will, Harry, and break the charm. You'll be helping the Order." Moody added lastly.

Harry gripped the table as the will was pushed toward him. He stared hard at it until they turned to Mundungus who muttered something with the unlit pipe in his mouth.

"What, Dung?" Tonks said.

"The hippogriff," Mundungus said gruffly, "It's been stuck in there ever since, hasn't it?"

Harry sat back down. As much as he didn't want to deal with the Black House ever again, he was handed a quill and hesitated before signing his name roughly. The dusty sunlight from the kitchen windows shined on the will as the letters of his name turned gold, then burned itself into the parchment. It was official.

"I don't want it," Harry said glumly in the silence, "Let the Order keep it and do whatever they want with it like you said, I don't want it." He repeated and then weakly added, "Make sure someone checks up on Buckbeak every once in a while."

"Of course," Lupin said softly.

"Well, it would be best if we didn't stay any longer here now that that's settled. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have been too generous. I'll inform them," Moody said as he hobbled out with Tonks and Mundungus following.

Harry sat still at the table staring at the quill. _Good job, you did the right thing, Harry, _he thought sarcastically, _Now everything in that house is yours. His mother's portrait, Kreacher... _Harry clenched his teeth.

"Harry," Lupin said, breaking Harry away from his thoughts. He sat beside Harry now in the empty kitchen as loud _cracks_ were heard in the other room as the Order disapparated, "I know what you're thinking."

"No you don't," Harry said automatically.

"Well," Lupin said, "I can try. I can understand why you don't want anything in that will, or any part of it. None of us liked to push that on you, Harry, but we've become desperate and these are desperate times. We couldn't have stayed at the Burrow for our meetings, and Dumbledore has been looking for other secret places but they have become slim. It's hard to hide from the public, the media, Voldemort and his supporters all at the same time. The entire Order is really going to appreciate what you've done once they've heard. It was a good, but hard choice, Harry, but listen," Lupin said as Harry scoffed.

"If the Order needs it so badly, why did he leave the house to me, huh? I can't do anything with the damn house and you know that, Sirius knew that---" Harry snapped when Lupin said softly.

"There's more to that house that what most have seen, Harry. Sirius didn't leave that house under your name for nothing."

Lupin stopped at that, stood up towards the door, and gave Harry one more thoughtful look. He disappeared behind the door, and as he sat there a moment longer, he heard him _crack _and disapparate just like the rest.

"Don't bother with that yet, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as Harry lifted his trunk by the stairs a few minutes later. Harry didn't bother to ask why and headed straight for the stairs to Ron's room.

It was a long walk up, longer than Harry remembered and his feet felt like lead as his climbed each step. The usual bangs from Fred and George's room were gone as he passed, now that they had their own place in Diagon Alley. Harry kept thinking about his signature burned into the will; it felt like it had burned into his own brain. He couldn't stop thinking about it, wishing he hadn't signed although he knew he had no way of escaping it. The Black house deserved to be locked up forever.

The door creaked awkwardly as Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked up to see him. Pigwidgeon hopped happily on the windowsill as Crookshanks watched curiously below. Hedwig looked annoyed with Pig's constant twittering as she preened her feathers. Ron sat up after lying on his bed throwing Crookshank's toy ball and Hermione was sitting on Ron's trunk with Ginny sitting at her feet.

"Hey," Ron said finally as Harry sat on the foot of his bed. He responded with a weak, "Hey," back.

Harry knew what they were waiting for and explained the situation to the three about the Black house and the will, Ron not bothering to kick Ginny out. He told them of him receiving everything and Ron interrupted him.

"But why would, er, Sirius," Ron uttered his name uncomfortably, "leave you that house anyway? He hated it himself."

"Dunno," Harry said glumly, "Lupin said there's more to it."

"Of course, there must be," Hermione figured out loud, "Sirius must have left something in that house for you. Otherwise he might as well left the house to Dumbledore."

"Didn't Lupin tell you what it was?" Ginny spoke finally.

"No," Harry said. Whatever it was, if what Lupin said was true, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to go back there to look for it. It could be anything, or perhaps nothing. He couldn't think of anything the house of Black, the horrible household for the lineage of generally pureblood Dark wizards, had hidden for him.

There was an uneasy silence for a moment before Hermione piped up, "So what did you score on your O.W.L.s, Harry?" Ron groaned loudly.

"I failed two of them," Harry muttered.

"Oh, Harry, I mean the ones you passed," Hermione badgered.

"Above an A, five," Harry said and Hermione smiled, the only one eager enough to talk about scores.

"I got eight... an A for Ancient Runes which really isn't all that bad. Did I tell you? Well, it's not _bad, _just not what I wished I could have got. I _knew _that when I mistranslated _ezwah _that---" Hermione rambled.

Ron interrupted, "Will you give it a rest, Hermione? She's been talking about O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T. classes nonstop. For now, I don't really give a---"

"You just don't want to discuss it because your mother got upset with you," Hermione shot back and Ron turned red.

"It's not all that bad. Not as bad as Fred and George..." Ron started but Hermione butt in.

"He passed four above an A," Hermione blurted and Ron shot her a nasty look, "Well, it's not the best you could do, Ron, and I told you to study more! Besides, you only failed two like Harry..." She finished but she was still grimacing with the fact that they actually failed exams.

"Three," Ron corrected her glumly. Ginny giggled and Ron snapped, "You won't be laughing when you take the exams this year." But Ginny was laughing at Pigwidgeon who had spotted a flock of birds fly by in the distance and tried to fly through the window to follow it. Pig fell down dizzily on the floor as Crookshanks sniffed him.

"I wonder how Buckbeak is doing," Hermione thought out loud as she watched the flock fly away. "I'd like to see him, and it would be a good idea to set him free. There's no use anymore to keep him cooped up in that house."

"Yeah," Harry said quietly but knew he would hate to see him go. Ginny scooped Pig into her hands and Ron gave Pig a pathetic look.

"He doesn't seem to grow," Ron shook his head. "He can't deliver letters either. I sent you a bunch, mate, but Pig must have misdelivered them."

Harry didn't say anything as he thought of all the unanswered letters Ron and Hermione sent him in his trunk. He saw Hermione purse her lips to say something but didn't. Harry knew she knew better and that Pig could deliver just fine.

"I got your gifts from Errol, though," Harry said abruptly, "Thanks."

"Yeah, I'm surprised he made it all the way too," Ron muttered.

"I read about, well, Percy---" Harry started.

"Yeah," Ron said darkly, "The git finally came back here. Not much of an apology though. He made up a bunch of rubbish how the Ministry _had_ assumed long ago that You-Know-Who might be out there regaining his followers and powers but they wanted to keep 'any information or predictions of this until they were completely confident that he had returned.'" Ron said in a mocking tone as Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Of course," Ron continued, "that doesn't explain why they had to call Dumbledore a delusional, batty old fool or you an attention-seeking, glory hog--- no offence, Harry," Ron added quickly.

"None taken," Harry said with a half-smirk and Ginny spoke up.

"But that's only what Percy said. We all know the Ministry didn't believe a word of Voldemort's return" (Ron shuddered) "only until a few months ago, but Percy wanted to get on good terms again with Mum and Dad. I doubt he'll ever admit the Ministry was wrong, or himself at least," Ginny said coldly. She obviously still hadn't forgiven him.

"Mum took him back right after he apologized for the Ministry's 'rash actions'. She cried a good bit but Dad's still cold with him. Both of them know of course that what he said was rubbish too. Mum didn't care but Dad knows that Percy will jump to whatever the Ministry believes next. I'd like to see what he'd do if the Ministry told everyone to jump off a cliff---" Ron said but Hermione cut him off.

"Anyway, hopefully they'll stay on our side, but who knows how many Death Eaters work at the Ministry. I guess it all depends on the new Minister of Magic---"

"They've exchanged Fudge?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Naturally, Harry," Hermione explained, "Just the other day he was voted out for not reporting V-Voldemort's rise back to power, along with some other officials. Oh Ron, get over it. Ginny and I have," Hermione snapped as Ron winced at his name. "It was all over the Daily Prophet yesterday that they will be voting in a new Minister soon. Dumbledore is the most popular choice but as we know, he won't take it. I heard from Moody that their first choice might just be temporary. Haven't you been reading the Daily Prophet?" Hermione asked, but Harry shook his head.

"Are the Death Eaters still in Azkaban?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, but they won't be in for long. The dementors could have kept them in but they're back with Voldemort, and all they have to do is plan a mass breakout again," Ron said.

They were quiet as they thought of this. Harry knew they all understood it was coming, the rise of the dark side and the climax of Voldemort's powers. It would get worse and the attacks would begin, just like it had years before. Harry wondered painfully where in his life would he be like if Voldemort had died the night he tried to kill him, if hadn't just lost his powers. Harry's stomach lurched and his insides burned. _Neither can live while the other survives..._

"You all right, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly. He realized he was clutching the side of Ron's bed tightly.

"Yeah," Harry said vaguely.

"Is it your scar?" Hermione asked feebly as he saw them notice it glowing dully under his hair.

"No. It's been like this all summer."

Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous looks and Harry knew they were all looking at him not sure what he would do. Harry could guess that they expected him to blow up any minute like last summer. In fact, he actually hadn't said much at all. _They probably think I'm thinking about Sirius,_ Harry thought but he wasn't this time. He was thinking about how Hermione and Ron would react when they heard the prophecy, if they ever heard it...

"I think I'd better go get my trunk..." Harry said so he could escape their stares but Ron laid back down, throwing Crookshank's toy up. Crookshanks kept her eyes on it.

"Don't bother," Ron said and Harry turned around.

"Why not?" Harry asked confused. Mrs. Weasley had said the same exact thing.

"Because you're---well, we're---not staying here this summer," Ron started explaining, throwing the ball against the ceiling, "Mum and Dad are going to be spending the rest of the summer at the headquarters. The Order hasn't had an official meeting in ages. Plus, Mum wants to finish cleaning up there. There are some rooms she hasn't even touched yet."

Harry walked back gloomily back to Ron's bed, "Don't worry, mate, it's not long 'til school starts up again." Ron murmured when he saw Harry's face darken at the thought of staying at number 12 again.

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The rest of the afternoon was pleasant enough for Harry. It was just the four of them with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Occasionally, someone would _pop_ in, people part of the Order: Kingsley, Moody... but some of them were wizards Harry had never met before. Harry found out that Bill and Charlie were working hard to bring foreign wizards on their side and that it was gradually working, but most of the time the wizards were still in shock of Voldemort's return that they were uneasy joining any sides at the moment. Percy was back at the Ministry with his own place and Fred and George, Harry heard, came in several times a week just to stop in.

Mrs. Weasley set up dinner for the four late that night. She and Mr. Weasley had to leave to where it was "none of their business". Not even five minutes after they apparated did they hear two _cracks_.

"Ow!" Ginny yelped and there was Fred and George in the kitchen, Fred on Ginny's foot. They were both in sharp, casual clothes looking as cheerful as ever.

"Sorry, sis," Fred smiled and he picked through the kitchen. "Mmm, nothing like the smell of home cooking. Did Mum leave us any?"

"Wouldn't it be easier just to buy and cook your own food instead of popping up every other day? It isn't all that hard you know," Ron said shoving a forkful of food in his mouth.

"Ah, Ron. You'll know someday what it'll feel like to miss home cooking when you grow up. Looks like we missed Mom's pork chops or something," George said as he looked at empty pans.

"Pot roast, actually," Harry said and Fred and George whipped around.

"Harry!" They said in unison and they slid across the table side to sit by him, "Here he is, folks," George beamed, ruffling Harry's hair, "The man that lead us to success."

"Don't you worry," Fred smirked, "We haven't forgotten. We owe you big time, but for now..." Fred paused and took out his wand. A bouquet of roses popped out next to Harry's dinnerplate, "A token from your fans."

"Thanks," Harry muttered gratefully and then said, "How's the shop going anyway?"

"Better than we could have ever imagined," Fred beamed.

"Thanks to our customers---" George started.

"---of all ages of course, but it's the young ones that start out as naïve as we were..."

"...learning the tricks of the trade of how to make the schooldays fun, or heck, any occasion."

"What did you name it anyway?" Hermione asked.

Fred sighed fondly, "The Weasleys Witching Hour... George and I planned it out ages ago."

"I think it might have been the first words out of our mouths..." George said faintly.

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Chapter Four: Back to Number Twelve

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